


Put Your Money on the Mummy

by fem_castielnovak



Series: WORST HUNTING TEAM EVER [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Happy halloween, M/M, Mummies, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fem_castielnovak/pseuds/fem_castielnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>literally the plot of "Scooby Doo and A Mummy Too "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put Your Money on the Mummy

**Author's Note:**

> surprisingly enough this has nothing to do with Dean’s “Scooby Gang” remark in 11x02. 99% of the time I am already subconsciously thinking about a Scooby Doo SPN AU. I blame Changing Channels.
> 
> I wanted to do Cas as Shaggy and also I wanted to do Dean as Daphne but the lineup I’ve got works better.
> 
> I _will_ come back and add something to round off “… walk into a bar” but I’m working on six other things so it won’t be very soon.

 

 

They pull up to the museum mid-afternoon. They could have gotten there late morning but Sam had insisted they stop for lunch and then there had been an accident on the freeway.

Cas lets out an obscene groan as he emerges from the car and stretches. Dean turns to his brother but he too seems to be participating in “break your back”, amateur yoga. Sam’s mirror actions are qualifiedly less obscene.

“Do you know who we’re lookin’ for?” Dean asks.

“Dean?” Cas asks but he’s facing the opposite direction so Dean ignores him, thinking it’s some observation of nature or a philosophical musing.

“Uh, yeah. The professor in charge of the exhibit.”

“Dean?” Cas is still staring off into the distance.

“So, what’s our cover?”

“I told him we’re grad students working on a paper and we needed a mummy to study.”

“Dean?”

Sam furrows his brow in annoyance and looks between Cas and Dean pointedly.  
Dean rolls his eyes, “Let the machine get it. What’s the professor’s name?”

Sam shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Dean?”

“Wait, you don’t know? So do we just call him ‘Professor’ the entire time?”

“I guess.”

“Dean?”

“ _What_ , Cas? What is it?”

“Dean, I was just thinking-“ Dean sighs heavily, “-why do we let Metatron and Crowley follow us everywhere?”

“What?!” He whips around to see a low-riding, beige Lincoln Continental pull up into the museum parking lot.

Sam’s pretty sure that the figure in the passenger seat ducks down behind the dashboard to hide, and then that the driver yanks the passenger back up into view.

“How long have they been following us?!” Dean asks Cas, who merely shrugs in response.

The car bounces a little and whips into a space a little farther down from where the impala is parked.

Now Sam can say for certain that both figures duck down.

After a minute of staring at the car and nothing happening, Dean walks over and knocks on the driver’s window.

Metatron sits up in the driver’s seat and rolls down the window. “Why, Dean! What a surprise!”

“Hallo,” Crowley wiggles his fingers in a wave from the passenger seat.

“Get out of the car,” Dean commands and turns to step up onto the sidewalk.

The car’s occupants seem to confer for a moment but do, in fact get out and follow Dean up onto the sidewalk.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks, suspicion blatantly obvious and well-warranted.

“We’re on a roadtrip!” Metatron’s unbridled enthusiasm is accented by him clapping his hands together.

Crowley offers a stiff smile, “Yes, well, we’re here to investigate a potential haunting-”

“Theft, actually,” Metatron interjects. “The deceased was a dear friend in life. But I’m afraid he may have permanently borrowed something that wasn’t his.” Then he chortles. Fucking _chortles_.

Crowley shoves his hands in his coat pockets. “Theft, haunting, we’re here for the mummy.” He gasps in obviously false surprise, “You all wouldn’t happen to be here looking into the same mummy, would you?”

“We are, but I’m sure you already knew that. Can you leave yet?”

“We can’t leave, we just got here!”

Sam pokes his finger at Metatron’s chest. “Okay, rule one: we got here first so it’s our case. That means we’re in charge. Rule two: you get two warnings and then I kill you.”

“Sam! We’re not gonna work with them!”

“They’re going to be here and interfering no matter what, at least this way we can keep an eye on them.”

“I am just a little offended by that,” Metatron remarks.

“Suck it up,” Dean tells him before stomping up the museum steps.

 

“This is the Mummy of Anka.” Introductions went seamlessly despite the addition to their group. And now they’ve got the professor playing Vanna White to an ornate sarcophagus in a glass case. It lies open, revealing a rather dry looking mummy, “He was once the most feared ruler of ancient Egypt.”

“Wow! He could still scare me, professor,” Cas says, sidling up to Dean and linking their arms together, as if for comfort.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Dean says through gritted teeth, shaking him off.

“Yes, don't worry about him, Castiel,” the professor reassures, “Anka is over 3000 years old.”

“That's funny. He doesn't look a day over 2000 to me,” Metatron jokes.

“Two thousand!” Crowley laughs to himself, earning a scowl from Sam.

“Thanks to Dr. Visyak, the mummy of Anka itself completes the University’s replica of his tomb” the professor says, hands still flighty, and gesturing behind them.

Out of the shadows a dark and morose-looking figure steps forth.  
“I only hope that the curse of Anka did not follow, professor,” she says in a low and portentous voice.

“Curse? What curse?” Dean asks. This could be useful.

She walks to stand beside the professor as she speaks, “Anka vowed that if he were ever removed from his tomb, he would come back to life and turn those responsible to stone.”

“A most ominous curse, l must say,” the professor remarks.

“As all ancient ones are,” Dr. Visyak replies with a lighthearted tone and a smile, heavily contrasting her attitude moments before. “Now, if you'll excuse me, professor, it's time for me to take my leave. I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking the time to have our meeting earlier.”

Ever the expert in reading people, Dean can see that her gratitude is more forced than not.

“Of course, Dr. Visyak. We at the museum appreciate your visit.”

“l bid you all good night.” She says to the ‘students.’

“Well, do you all still want to finish our conversation and analysis?” the professor offers.

“Trust me, it’s going to take more than a curse to scare us off,” Sam says smugly.

“Hey, professor, what odd sort of coin is this?” Cas, blatantly disregarding the ‘do not touch’ sign holds up a small bronze disk bearing an indiscernible carving.

“lt's part of an ancient mystery l haven't been able to solve yet.”

Cas turns it over in his hand, “It looks Anatolian? No, no, definitely Aksumite-“ Dean claps a  hand over his mouth before Cas further dates himself.

“Well, could you solve how I can get a sandwich?” Sam asks snidely, “l'm starving.”

“Me too!” Metatron seconds.

“Yes, why don’t you all go grab dinner somewhere. I’ve got classes and office hours until about 8 tonight but if you come back around 9 we can have the museum all to ourselves,” the professor smiles warmly.

A hiss and a yowl has everyone turning to see an Abyssinian cat running from where Crowley stands looking guilty and holding a twin cat statue.

“Put. The artifact. _Down_ ,” Dean grits out.

Crowley sniffs indignantly and rolls his eyes as if he is the one being put upon and not like a culprit in danger of breaking a valuable piece of pottery.

“Why is there even a living cat in a museum?” Cas asks. Dean grabs his arm.

 “We’ll be back soon, professor,” the hunter calls as they walk out.

 

 

“I can’t believe you lifted that stupid coin! I just hope we don’t get into any trouble,” Dean grumbles, holding tight to Castiel’s wrist as he drags him down the hall.

“I’m sorry but if I’m remembering things correctly, I’m not the one who dragged me out of the museum without my pockets being checked.” They turn a corner abruptly and Cas gleefully wonders if there will be any faint bruising, “I would also have supported your decision to give me a pat-down.”

Dean ignores him and knocks on the numbered door. He wishes that there was a name plate so they could stop just using his title. He knocks, “Professor?”

Sam catches up and pushes past them, opening the door.

Dean scowls and trying to be polite, calls out again, “Professor, we're back.”

The light of the computer screensaver gives the room a dim glow but it’s only enough to see a silhouette of a man at a desk.

“Sir, why are you sitting in the dark?” Cas asks, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Dean.

“l'll get the lights,” Metatron offers, using the light from the hall to find a nearby lamp and pull its cord.

It only reveals a white-as-sand, inanimate version of the man they expected to be there. 

“Professor!” Sam says with more accusation than surprise.

“Zoinks! What happened to him?” Metatron recoils from the desk.

“Zoinks?” Dean asks with derision.

“He's turned into 14-karat stone!” Metatron continues.

Cas frowns, “That’s an underestimation by about 41.7%. Given that he appears to be all stone. And using that system of fineness is reserved for metals,” Cas runs a finger over the smooth surface of the professor’s head, “particularly for precious metals. Not for stone.”

“Stone?” Dean asks. “I’m betting that the celebrity dead guy has something to do with this.”

“So,” Cas is smirking, “You’ve got your money on the mummy?”

Metatron laughs, outright, “Oh that’s a good one!”

“Shall we go check?” Crowley holds the door open.

 

 

“Looks like we were right to suspect Mr. Ragtime,” Dean says, “The mummy's not in the case.”

Crowley whistles and they turn to see him beside a cracked glass pane, “Path of escape, this way. Or was this here earlier?”

“Wait a minute.” Sam crouches to peer at the shards of broken glass on the floor. “lf he went out the door how come the broken glass is on the inside of the door?”

“You're right,” Dean says. “There's something strange going on around here.”

“Stranger than a mummy coming to life?” Crowley asks, “I mean the curse, I get. But resurrection spells? I’d know about it if a soul was returned to it’s sender.”

“Gosh! lt looks like we've found ourselves another mystery,” Cas says, hand on hip as he bites his thumb in an attempt to look girlishly provocative. It’s so inappropriate and cheesy-looking but Dean double takes and swallows hard anyways.

“And-and we're gonna solve it,” the hunter declares, adjusting his tie. “The first thing to do is split up and search the museum for clues.”

“Like, what kind of a clue?” Metatron asks

“The mummy! What else?” Sam asks stalking off to begin the investigation.

 

 

“Would you guys quit it? We aren’t going to find the mummy with you two making so much noise.” Sam doesn’t even bother turning around.

“Making noise is the idea. We’re herding the mummy towards Dean and Castiel.”

“Obviously.”

“Herding-?” Sam turns around. Both of them are carrying pots and spoons. Metatron is wearing one on his head.

Sam yanks the pot off of his head, “That's not the idea. Now put that stuff in the closet and come on!” He shoves the pot at Metatron and moves farther down the hall.

Crowley opens the janitorial closet that Sam had indicated. 

A gnarled hand reaches out.  
Metatron goes to hand off one of the pots to it.

“Thank y– Jinkies! The mummy!” He slams the closet door shut and holds it closed. The mummy’s fist breaks through the thin wood. “That does it! Punch my face, will you?”

“Yes he will,” Crowley says and tugs the angel away from the door and pushes him down the hall.

 Panting, they catch up with Sam, who’s doubled back at the shouting. “You found him!”

“Yeah,” Metatron says, “He's locked in the closet.”

Crowley sighs and shakes his head mournfully, “Just like Dean.”

“Now what do we do?” With his moral compass ill-aligned ( _read: nonexistent_ ), Dean usually took over decision making at these points.

“Run!” Crowley exclaims at a groaning, creaking noise bursting from behind the closet door. He and Metatron scramble down the hall.

“You guys!” Sam stomps after them. If only to ensure that they don’t ruin anything in the museum.

 

Sam sees them hovering in the Egyptian exhibit doorway “Great! We're back where we started!”

“The mummy is right behind us!” Crowley stage whispers.

“Come on! Let's hide!” Metatron says. They rush into the room before Sam can get to the doorway.

“Here we go again!” Sam mutters to himself. “ _Guys!_ ” he whispers, “ _Guys!_ Come out!” He rounds a display case only to be met with the sight of Crowley in Roman centurion garb and Metatron lounging in garish Egyptian finery on a queen’s palanquin.

Sam covers his face in exasperation.

“Get out of the Marc Antony and Cleopatra display.”

“Whisper! _Whisper!_ ” Metatron chides as they stand and disrobe from their togas.

A heavy groaning comes from the exhibit’s entrance. Sam looks over his shoulder to see the mummy and turns back just in time to catch the tail end of his companion’s retreating forms. Literally.

It doesn’t take long to reach them because they’ve stopped at an emergency exit.

“Wow! What a time to find a locked door!” Metatron laments.

“Shoo! Go away!” Crowley calls at the monster stumbling towards them.

“Yeah, your mummy's calling you.” Metatron continues to jiggle the doorknob.

 “What happened to whispering?” Sam asks.

The mummy groans louder, angrily, if Sam had to describe it.

“Oh, no sense of humor, huh?” Metatron glances over his shoulder.

The undead man only stumbles closer, “ _Cooiiinnn!_ ” it groans. “ _Cooiiinnn!_ _Cooiiinnn!_ ”

“Coin? Since when does an Egyptian mummy speak English?”

The door gives way.

“Don’t question it just run!” Crowley commands.

Sam slams the door shut behind them and shoves a table under the handle. The mummy continues to claw at the wood and moan incoherently.

“l'll bet he means that old Egyptian coin. Come on, let's go find Dean and Cas and tell them we caught the mummy.”

 

“Cas look!” Dean points to the ground, “Footprints! Shit, look how big they are.”

“Mmm, yours are bigger,” Cas hums, sidling up to him.

Dean steps away, “They must be the mummy's … they fall in a weird pattern and the weight distribution is a lot lighter at the toes.”

“That’s probably just from decay.”

Dean looks around warily, “Come on, let's follow. And stick close to me.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Cas purrs.

“Not _that_ close.”

They walk until they reach a wall covered in tarp.

“The footprints disappear here, where they're building another wing,” Dean says. But when he turns to Cas, the ex-angel is looking over towards the parking lot.

“lsn't that Dr. Visyak's car?”

Dean squints and frowns, “Yeah. l thought she left hours ago.”

There’s a figure in the car but it isn’t moving. Dean walks over to get a closer look. He reaches out to knock on the window but it’s rolled down. “Dr. Visyak?”

“ls she-?”

“She's turned to stone!”

“She must have met the mummy before she could leave.” Cas looks around the parking lot. “I wonder if Sam and the others have met it yet.”

 

They’re halfway to the parking lot when Sam spots it.

“Hey!” Metatron exclaims when Sam grabs his collar. “What’s the idea?”

“This,” Sam holds up a piece of cloth he’s plucked from Metatron’s hair. “It looks like a piece of tape from the mummy.”

“A calling card, how polite,” Crowley remarks.

Sam rubs the bandage between his fingers, “I’m going out on a limb here and saying that synthetically made material wasn’t traditional burial dress in ancient Egypt. Come on. Let’s go to the museum lab and test it.”

 

“Can’t you work any faster?” Metatron has begun tapping his foot.

Sam stomps down on it which earns a pained gasp from the angel. “Ask me again and you use up your first warning.” Sam turns back to the microscope with the cloth strip on the plate. “Hand me the tweezers.” He holds his hand palm up and glances up only for a moment when the instrument is passed to him, “Thanks.” He freezes, and hangs his head. “l wish l hadn't seen what l think l saw.”

“ _Cooiiinnn!_ _Cooiiinnn!_ ” the mummy groans, hand still outstretched from passing Sam the tweezers.

“Zoinks! lt's the creepy coin collector again.”

“lt's time for a smoke-screen exit.” Sam identifies and grabs two beakers and tosses them to the floor.

“L-let's get out of here.” Metatron scrambles for the exit.

Dean and Cas are waiting outside the door.

“Sam! What's going on?”

“We got the mummy trapped inside!” Metatron exclaims.

“Groovy!” Cas yawns.

“Wait, where's Crowley?”

“Oh no!” Metatron whips around and fumbles at the door, “He's trapped inside too!”

The door is thrown open to reveal an empty room.

“Crowley?!” Metatron calls out.

“They're not here,” Sam says. He points to the back of the room, “We forgot about the back window.”

“Then that creep must have Crowley!” Metatron throws a hand to his brow.

“We better find him before he ends up like the professor and Dr. Visyak,” Cas comments.

“Dr. Visyak?” Sam asks.

“Found him in his car, solid as a rock.” Dean walks to the window and looks out.

“Poor Crowley!” Metatron sobs without a tear in his eye.

 

With some pushing and pulling they all manage to squeeze through the window. It leads to the construction site of the new museum wing.

They follow what is obviously the main path and it doesn’t take long before they find the stone replica of the King of Hell. Sam is suspicious of how easy it was.

Metatron falls to his knees in front of the statue, “ _Crowley_! We’re too late!”

Sam looks around their surroundings when he hears a noise other than Metatron’s pitiful mourning.  It sounds like it’s coming from a small shack nearby. He crosses over to it and gives the handle one, two good tugs and it readily falls open. Unsurprisingly, out totters hell’s most lovable demon.

“Oh, my old pal! My dearest friend! l'll never see his sinister face again!” Metatron continues to lament with eyes closed tight.

“Marv?” Crowley asks in confusion at the sight before him.

“Look, Boris. You've been turned to stone!” Metatron sobs dryly indicating that the demon should look at his stone-self.

Dean physically recoils, “Oh God, they’ve got nicknames!”

“Wait a minute. Crowley!” Metatron nearly falls over in an attempt to stand. Crowley helps him. “You're alright!” The angel exclaims, throwing his arms about the demon’s neck.

“Yes, well I won’t be licking your face anytime soon so you can let up on the warm greeting.”

“Jeepers, Get a load of this, gang! A stone one,” he knocks his fist on the stone forehead, “and a real one,” he knocks his fist on Crowley’s head.

Crowley bats Metatron’s hands away and dusts off his shoulders. “What is it with you and these awful interjections?” he asks Metatron.

Cas squints critically between the two, “l don't get it.”

“You don't get a lot of things,” Sam says condescendingly.

“Why is the mummy after that coin? That’s the real question,” Dean says. “Let's go to the professor's office. Maybe we can dig up some answers to this mystery.”

 

“Here,” Dean points to a page of notes that they’d found lying on the professor’s desk. “According to the professor's research not only was Anka the most feared ruler of ancient Egypt, but the richest.”

Metatron peers over Dean’s shoulder, “Now, that's what l call a riches-to-rags story!”

“Riches-to-rags?” Crowley doesn’t bother holding back a light laugh.

“But what about the coin?” Cas asks, flipping it up into the air and catching it before repeating the motion. Sam snatches the gold piece before the third catch and puts it firmly on the desk.

“Yeah, l think l found something.” Dean points to another set of notes a few pages back. “Look at the design work on the statue in this photo.”

Sam squints, “lt looks like a picture puzzle to me.”

“Right. And take a look at one of the pictures in that puzzle when it's magnified.”

“Zoinks! lt's the same as the coin!” Metatron grins.

“So that's it.” Sam says.

“Uh-oh.” Crowley shields himself behind Dean, “Big, bad and bandaged is back!”

“And he looks mad,” Metatron says observationally.

“Come on! Back to the construction site!” Dean calls, already on the move.

“Oh, just go ahead and give him directions, why don’t you?” Metatron asks.

 

 

“Alright, we’re here. Now can’t we rest? I’m tiredsville.”

“Quit your whining and get in here.” Dean darts into the shack that Crowley was trapped in earlier.

The ropes that were binding him are still on the floor from where he escaped and all around are bags and craft supplies.

“Hey, what's this?” Sam kicks at a lump on the ground.

“’ _Quick drying mold cement,'_ ” Cas reads. “And spray molds,” he points to a box not far away.

“’s that how the creep made stone statues of everyone,” Dean asks rhetorically.

There’s a noise from a burlap sack in the corner.

“What's that?” Cas asks.

Sam kicks at this lump too and it grunts.

Dean shoves him back and unties the top.

“lt's the professor!” Metatron gasps.

“Would you stop gasping and exclaiming things?” Crowley asks.

Metatron huffs and stomps his foot. “You know what? I’m not having fun anymore. You’ve been a wet blanket since we found you and your stone statue.”

“Good, I don’t want to play anymore,” Crowley retorts.

“You all right, professor?” Dean asks, ignoring the squabbling behind him.

 “l'm fine.”

Metatron stalks over and re-covers his head, pulling Dean away, “Groovy. Be back for you later.”

“What are you –?”

“Listen, doesn’t the name Visyak sound familiar?” He searches Dean’s face. “Ringing any bells at all?”

Sam snaps his fingers, “Yeah! _Yeah._ Dean, don’t you remember: Eleanor Visyak. She was a doctor, a professor of medieval studies and-and one of Bobby’s old girlfriends.”

“And a _monster_.” Crowley adds, arms crossed and looking very much like a toddler who didn’t get his way.

A distant groan comes from outside in the construction area.

Metatron nods, “That out there is her sister in a very elaborate mummy costume. All she wants is the coin to get whatever’s in that statue we saw in the book.”

“How- how do you know any of this?”

“Uh, hello? Scribe of God? Incredibly powerful being?”

“I recognized her on the way out of the museum,” Crowley says.

Metatron clucks his tongue, “Spoilsport.”

“Hold up. Was there a reason you didn’t use any of your angel magic or demon powers during _any_ part of the case?!”

“Well where’s the fun in that?” Metatron simpers.

“Alright, well can you use it now? Since we know everything?”

Metatron rolls his eyes, “ _Fine_.”  
He claps twice and the groaning stops. “Are you happy?”

“Yes-“

“Mildly-“

Sam scoffs at Crowley and Dean answering simultaneously, as they glare at each other.

 

 

“So it was apparent that Dr. Visyak knew the secret of the coin, and after you all left, she broke in, hoping to steal it.”

Apparently that burlap sack had been rather thick and he’d heard none of their conversation after Metatron had covered his head back up. Sam was fine with him drawing his own conclusions. Hey, it made their job easier.

“But when l surprised her, she had to tie me up in the shack. Strong woman she is.” He coughs.

“Yes, well while you were hidden safely,” Metatron suggests in heavy self-favor, “We called the authorities. We’ve been assured she’ll be going to trial.”

“ _But_ , she’s uh, wanted in Canada so it’ll take place there.” Dean sticks to a cover that won’t have the professor seeking to be a witness.

“They’ve got dibs.” Cas adds with a nod.

The professor claps his hands together, “Wonderful! As a reward for your fearlessness, would you all like to help me discover the secret of Anka’s puzzle statue?”

“Absolutely!” Metatron rubs his hands together in delight.

The professor opens his mouth to narrate his actions but Cas interrupts, “The coin fits into the design carved on the back of the hippo like a key.” Cas continues to pat himself down as if looking for something.

“Yes,” the professor mumbles, fumbling with the small piece of metal before slipping it into its slot. He clears his throat, “Now let's see what it unlocks.”

“Ah! A secret compartment.” Metatron grins delightedly at the mild intrigue.

“With a glass beetle in it,” Sam says, unimpressed.

“Not quite a glass beetle,” Cas corrects, once more interrupting the professor. He apparently finds what he’s looking for when he sets a cigarette between his lips. “lt's Anka's most-valued treasure.”

“ _Adiamondscarabworthafortune!_ ” the professor rushes to say. “That is, a diamond scarab worth a fortune,” he restates clearly.

Cas gives him barely a glance before his attention is once more lost to his cigarette. Dean thinks it may never have left it.

“So that's what he was after.” Metatron nods to himself, picking the gem up to observe it closely. “Well, gang, l guess that wraps up the mystery!” Laughing a bit, “And the mummy too!” he adds.

Crowley actually rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

“We’ll see you all later,” Metatron calls over his shoulder.

Dean turns to his remaining companions, “Huh, getting rid of them was way easier than I expected. Come on, I’m actually starved. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Thank you again, professor,” Cas says.

“Did you know I only came close to using one of my warnings with them?” Sam remarks as they exit the building.

 

 

The doors of the Continental slam and in seconds they’re pealing out onto the road.

“Did you get it?” Crowley asks eagerly.

Metatron smirks in his annoying half-smile and pulls his hand from his pocket and unfolds his palm to reveal the glimmering jewel insect.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did I or did I not explicitly state up front that this story would be the plot of "Scooby Doo Where Are You?" s2e12 ?  
> I do not lie, or joke about Scooby Doo.
> 
> It would seem I'm unable to keep Cas from hand-feeding you all the title. 
> 
> Just so you know, currently I've got three and a half more installments in the works for this series.
> 
> Exits are to your left, your right, and your rear, restrooms are to the front, Kudos and comments are found below, and as always very appreciated. Thank you for flying Air fem-castielnovak.
> 
>  
> 
> If you want to watch the full episode, this was the link I used when I was writing this: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x31c6ns
> 
> In case it wasn't obvious, the cast is as follows:  
> Fred = Dean Smith  
> Daphne = Endverse!Cas (steals Shaggy’s lines)  
> Velma = Soulless!Sam  
> Shaggy = Metatron (steals Velma’s lines & everyone's catchphrases)  
> Scooby = Crowley


End file.
